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Ron rammed a fist at the wall.He hoped that the eighth floor really missed that rum.Siddhartha never slept on the fourth floor. He spent all day and all night – the time in Kenselton Hotelbeing decided by the clocks – sitting in the cafeteria. Just what he did there, no one quite knew,although the more observant people noticed a fairly large quantity of discarded sweet wrappers in hisvicinity.One of the disadvantages of having the second-largest room – the only one other than the supply-cumcommonroom that had an attached bathroom, computer and television set – was that other people gotthe idea that they could come in as and when they liked, and stay there.Taking into account the shortage of beds and his habit of staying up way into the unnatural hours of theearly morning, Neo supposed that he couldn’t really blame Johnny Utah for hijacking his bed. All thesame, he didn't like the way that his nice, peaceful, steady clicking of keyboard keys was being rudelyinterrupted by snores. It disrupted his concentration (and concentration was totally needed whenplaying Neopets and making fake Keanu MySpace accounts), and it was starting to get on his nerves.On the other bed, further from the glow of the computer screen, Ted muttered something aboutdisembowelled pelicans and rolled over.****Neo yawned. He closed the Internet windows, shut down the computer, got off the chair and spentseveral moments contemplating the possible consequences of pushing Johnny off the bed. Neo didn’tthink it fair that he had taken his bed. Heck, there were three spare ones in the other rooms – the firstrooms on both sides of the front stairwell door – that he was pretty sure didn't have anyone sleeping onthem. The only occupants of those rooms were Bob Arctor and memories of the recently murdered;people avoided the latter because just because ghosts did not exist in some of their universes did notmean that the same held true at Kenselton Hotel. The blood-infused sheets probably had some part toplay in that as well.Neo wanted neither a brain-damaged dude nor dead people for roommates, and stood before hishijacked bed with increasing frustration.Johnny slept on, blissfully unaware of the fact that he was at present the target of angry feelings from aguy who knew kung fu.Neo gave up and left for the common room. The kitchenette light was still on; meanwhile, the cardplayers had either returned to other rooms or had fallen asleep on various parts of the carpet. .He contemplated pushing Kevin Lomax off the sofa, and had just started moving forward to do it, whenhe tripped over someone's leg and grabbed wildly at the table to break his fall. Neo's feet gratefullyfound ground away from the cornflakes guy. And then the numbers and letters on not-Tim's wrist tag –half-revealed by the violent table-hug and now inches from his face – finally registered fully in his mind.206/964...Neo's blood ran cold.For a few seconds he stood frozen in that uncomfortable position too close to the table. His gazemoved slowly and nervously from the wrist tag to not-Tim's sleeping face. He was easily one of theoldest in here, in direct defiance of what the 964 suggested.Neo swallowed.He looked back at not-Tim's wrist tag, still partly obscured by the sleeve, and reached out a shakingfinger to hook the sleeve further back-.../REE.